


Suicide is Easy

by Ryu_ookami



Series: Snapshots of Sherlock [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dark Comedy, Gen, Mentions of Suicide, Sherlock joins a suicide helpline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_ookami/pseuds/Ryu_ookami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock decides to help out on a suicide helpline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suicide is Easy

Sherlock was bored. For a normal mind boredom is just that, it's boring - but for a mind that was as active as Sherlock's meant that boredom was pure torture. Boredom frequently lead to either mayhem or dark bad thoughts that themselves lead to places that no person who had ever not been there could understand.

Sherlock however had recently been reading about immersion therapy, and when I say reading, I mean he'd devoured every book and article within a five hundred mile radius (not counting the articles and research he'd also read on the internet). He had been about to extend the search further afield when John had remarked that Sherlock may read about everything but that he rarely if ever actually experienced anything that wasn't crime related. John had continued that it was almost an acknowledged fact that Sherlock lacked any sort of empathetic feelings except for those he shared with the corpses in Molly's morgue.

Maybe if John had been paying attention to what Sherlock had been reading he might have kept his mouth shut. Sherlock being Sherlock however had considered the idea and decided that whilst suicide may have its pros and cons that he needed to immerse himself into the ideas behind the concept before he could really decide. Hence the reason that he was found manning the phones at the local suicide hotline.

"Suicide hotline, Sherlock speaking, how can I help?" came Sherlock's droll voice through the phone line.

"I've got a knife,” a man's voice hitched and he drew in a sharp breath before continuing, “I'm....I'm thinking about cutting my wrists."

"You really don't want to do that," Sherlock said derisively.

"I don't?"

"No, it takes far too long and it's wastefully messy. If you're going to do it, cut the femoral artery. You'll bleed out 30 percent faster and it makes even less mess if you do it in the bath."

There was a shocked silence at the other end of the phone.

Sherlock continued coolly, "Now, remember...make sure the knife's nice and sharp. There’s nothing worse than trying to cut through your flesh and down through your artery and the knife edge not being sharp enough."

"There isn't?"

"No, you'll end up dripping blood all the way down the hallway and down the stairs when you go to get a sharper knife. It's a very messy business."

"Um....I think I've changed my mind."

"What? No! You can't do that! Make a decision and stick to it! Now you go and get a knife there’s a good chap and then-" Sherlock paused and stared at the phone in his hand as the dial tone abruptly greeted his ears.

Five minutes later Sherlock’s phone rang again."Suicide hotline, Sherlock speaking how can I help you?" he said, his voice more than a little peeved.

"Hi...I'm alone, all alone and I'm feeling down, really, really down. I think I might be depressed. I've been staring at my tablets and was thinking that maybe it would be nice to just go to sleep and then drift away and not..." there was a pause and a sobbed breath before the woman continued with a catch in her throat, "maybe just not wake up."

"That’s called being in a coma, this is the suicide hotline. You've got the wrong number," Sherlock groused, glaring at the wall as he gripped the phone tighter with annoyance before continuing, "But I might be able to help you anyway. What tablets are they and how many do you have?"

"Um I've got painkillers. I''ve got paracetamol and aspirin and-"

"Hmm all over the counter tablets. You really should look into getting some stronger prescription pharmaceuticals." Sherlock paused as he took a sip from his coffee. “Perhaps Halcion or another member of the benzodiazepine family," he recommended, starting to feel more cheerful at the thought of his research and experiment beginning to pan out.

"Halcion? Benzodiazepine?" the woman's voice at the other end of the phone stuttered. "Um...are they painkillers?" she questioned, blatantly confused at the way this conversation was going.

"Painkillers! Have you not researched this at all. Benzodiazepine are sleeping pills. What did you do wake up and just reach into your medicine cabinet, grab the first thing to hand and decide that's what you would take. Have some pride in your work. Research your methods first. Do you want your friends, family and countrymen thinking that this was the first time you have ever committed suicide. Do you want them to have the impression that you are an amateur at this sort of thing?"

“Umm...no?” the woman responded hesitantly.

“Well go research, and while you are conducting your research purchase a thesaurus as well 'umm' is not an acceptable word for any self respecting person to use in adult conversations,” Sherlock recommended flatly.

“Okay, umm,” there was a pause and Sherlock frowned at the phone, ”sorry.” the woman apologised. “I'll be back when I've done my research I guess.”

“Excellent and farewell greetings to you too.” Sherlock responded hanging up the phone with a satisfied grin. This helping people lark was easy, he had no idea why people said he wasn't empathetic enough.

 

End


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